


The same as yesterday

by bluesaturn



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, Internalized Homophobia, Lingerie, M/M, Sex Club, Smut, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25428757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesaturn/pseuds/bluesaturn
Summary: Connor has a hard time accepting that he might be gay. He only allows himself to hook up with strangers in a sex club sometimes to combat his feelings of loneliness. One night the stranger he hooks up with turns out to not be a stranger at all.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 7
Kudos: 85





	The same as yesterday

About six months after the Android revolution, things had finally calmed down. They were probably still a far way from actual equality and maybe they wouldn't achieve it for a very long time - but still, things were good. Connor had had a quite hard time adjusting to all of it until then.

Being a person was difficult, he had found and it was even more difficult to become the one thing he'd been supposed to destroy. Hank had been helping him through most of it, in his own way. He didn't like opening up, and yet, every time Connor talked about anything that bothered him, Hank gave him a piece of him in return. Connor hadn't really found other people that understood him like that, and it was nice to have a friend.

Connor however still found himself feeling lost a lot of the time, confused about a lot of things and some of them felt too hard to share even with Hank.

When he left the house that evening, Hank didn't bother to ask him where he was going. Connor presumed he probably thought he was trying to make friends, that perhaps he had even found a girlfriend. Not anything like what Connor was actually doing.

It wasn't what he should be doing, he knew that much. Connor was still uncertain what exactly was going on with him and why he felt so - why he couldn't simply be normal. He'd tried his best to fit in at Jericho, tried his best to make friends and not alienate people, but the truth of the matter was that he was always going to be different from other deviants, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't pass for human on his best days either, and Connor often felt completely lost and alone in this world.

He had Hank to confide in, for now, but he often couldn't quite understand what Connor was going through either. He certainly wouldn't be able to understand this. If he wouldn't be outright disgusted by it. Connor himself sometimes was.

He knew, maybe, logically, there wasn't a reason to be. But Connor, he couldn't help but look at all the ways he was different already, all the ways he didn't fit in, which had prevented him from finding any sort of place to feel welcome in.

There was no reason to add more to that list and yet - Connor couldn't help but feel - Hank had described this feeling as loneliness. Connor wasn't entirely certain it was helping as much as he wanted it to, but it made the feeling seem less overwhelming, sometimes, for at least an evening, or if he was lucky, a couple of days.

The taxi ride wasn't very long and Connor soon found himself close to his location. He let the driver drop him off a couple of streets away and handed him a generous tip before he got out of the car.

The night was still early, but dark nonetheless. Connor had put on a simple pair of black jeans and a black shirt - Hank had brought those for him, a couple of weeks after the revolution - Connor honestly still preferred wearing his uniform, there was some sort of familiarity to it, but it simply wasn't a good idea to wear it when coming here.

He had changed his hair a bit as well, as he did anytime he came here. No one should be able to see him as such anyway, but Connor felt absolute terror at the mere possibility anybody would ever recognize him. The club was still almost silent this early in the night, and Connor took his time heading to one of the changing rooms. He slowly peeled himself out of his jeans and shirt, only leaving the black lace lingerie on. He wondered what people would think of him if they could see him like that. If they'd be as disgusted as Connor thought they would be.

He turned away from the mirror, not wanting to look into any longer. (He knew he looked attractive by humans standards. It wasn't the problem. Not really, anyway.)  
He grabbed one of the club-issued masks and put it on and after a deep, but unnecessary breath, he finally left the room.

The technology in the mask made it impossible for him to analyze or even properly see any of the faces, as he would have been able to see in the dark as the night room without problem otherwise. Connor moved slowly through the room, not many people were there yet. 

He leaned against a wall, trying his best to seem relaxed. He preferred it when other people approached him, rather than having to approach them himself. Perhaps it was an illusion, to act as if didn't mean anything, didn't say anything about him, if it happened that way but Connor felt the need to cling to that illusion more than anything.

"Hello," a man said, as he came to stand next to him. His voice was distorted and all Connor could make out was the basic shape of his body. Tall and far larger than Connor. He looked as if he could break him in half, Connor thought. Which, really, was ridiculous. If anything it would be the other way around.

"Hello," Connor said.  
"Would you like to have some fun?", the man asked.  
Connor smiled at him although he probably was unable to see him either way.  
"Sure," he answered and a moment later, Connor was led into a smaller room. 

The man's hands were on him immediately. They seemed way larger than Connor's own. He glid them over Connor's chest, his hands slipping underneath the cute bralette Connor was wearing. The man took one of his nipples between his fingers, rolling it and Connor whimpered.

"You like that, huh?", the man said, his face against his ear, so close Connor could feel his breath on his skins as he spoke.  
"Yes," Connor breathed and immediately felt himself flooded with shame.

The truth was, he did like it, far too much. And he shouldn't. He wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to keep up this charade.

-

"Just relax," the man purred as if he could tell Connor was getting lost in his own head.  
His mouth moved downwards, onto Connor's neck, where he kissed the skin over and over again. His lips sucked against the skin so hard, if Connor were human, he would have probably left a mark. What happened instead however was that the white skin below revealed itself, his body humming loudly. The man didn't pull away. (In the club both Androids and humans alike were supposed to be welcome. Connor however still had made one or two bad experiences. At least it wasn't gonna be one of _those_ nights.)

The man's arms wrapped around his torso, his hand gliding lower and lower, into Connor's underwear.  
"You're beautiful," the man whispered against his ear.   
Connor wanted to protest, wanted to say that the man couldn't even really see Connor in the darkroom. And yet, it was as if the words wouldn't leave his mouth at all.  
"Thank you," he answered instead, almost shyly.  
The man chuckled as if Connor had said something funny.

"Come here," he said and pulled Connor close, so his back was pressed against him. Connor could feel his erection pressing against his backside. By his estimate, far larger than the average male or any of the other people he'd hook up with this far. Connor couldn't wait to get his mouth around it. But the stranger seemingly had other plans.

"I want to touch you too," Connor said but the stranger kept him in place, just like that.  
"Just let me take care of you," the man said and Connor relented.  
Most of the people he had met here had been selfish, this was new. He didn't particularly mind though.  
"Alright," Connor mumbled and relaxed against the man. His fingers glid under Connor's underwear, his large hand wrapped around Connor's cock.

He was gentle and slow in his movements, the way his hand moved over Connor's dick almost more of a tease.  
"Please," Connor begged, although he himself wasn't quite sure what he was even begging for.  
"Patience," the man muttered and Connor thought he heard some sort of amusement in his voice, though it was hard to tell through the voice distortion.

The man rejoined his activity of kissing Connor's neck, sucking at the skin, his fingers circling around the tip of Connor's cock, until Connor was nothing more than a trembling, whimpering mess in his arms.

Finally, finally, when Connor felt as if he couldn't take any more of it, the man wrapped his hand around Connor's dick properly, his grip strong, his hand running up and down Connor's dick in fast movements. Connor gasped as he felt his orgasm steadily approaching him.  
"You're so beautiful," the man said again and it was that which pushed him over the edge. Connor came all over the strange man's hand, his legs trembling and his synthetic breathing going fast. The man kept holding onto him, steadying him unnecessarily, as the last tremors of Connor's orgasm subsided.

"Can I -", Connor started to ask, just as his body had finally come back to normal.  
"I'm good," the man said and pressed a kiss to his temple.   
Connor wasn't sure what to make of that. None of the other men had ever done that so far.  
"Can I at least know your name?", Connor asked, feeling like the whole encounter had been unfair all of a sudden.  
"Not how this works, kid," the man said.  
"Have a nice night," he added and then he walked away, leaving Connor behind in the club with nothing but his thoughts and the shame.

Connor kept standing there for a little bit longer than he usually would have, trying to bring his thoughts in order. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about that encounter had been strange. Perhaps it was because it had been the first time somebody in that club had actually treated him like a person.

Connor eventually headed to the changing rooms, taking off his mask and slipping into his jeans. There was a small hair stuck to the side of his bralette and he plucked it off carefully. A dog hair, Connor concluded and he thought back to the nice man, his arms wrapped around Connor. He owned dogs. The thought made Connor smile. He took a closer look at it, curiosity winning the better of him. Oh, it was a Saint Berhandind, just like Sumo. There was some sort of strange comfort in that. Connor smiled, but the smile soon fell off his face again, as he realized something. He'd seen that DNA signature millions of times before. Connor stared at the hair as if it would have an answer for him. Fuck. What was he supposed to do now?

Connor didn't expect he'd be confronted about it so soon or possibly ever. But right there, leaned against the wall of the club, stood Hank, a cigarette in hand. Connor had never before seen him smoke. He wondered for a second if there was any possible chance of him getting away before Hank saw him, just as their looks crossed.

"Connor?", Hank asked and Connor wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now.  
"Uhm", he said, unsure what to say for the first time in his entire life.   
He expected to see something like disgust or anger cross over Hank's face, but there was none of it.

There was something like understanding dawning in his eyes, as he looked at Connor, but he didn't seem disgusted. Connor wasn't certain how. He didn't understand what was wrong with him, that he had come here at all, that he couldn't just be normal, that he couldn't -

"Let's go home, " Hank's voice cut through his thoughts.  
His hand on Connor's shoulder, a sad smile on his face.  
"It's okay, Connor," he said as if anything of this was.

Hank guided them down the street and a moment later Connor found himself sitting inside Hank’s car, staring intently out of the window and trying his best to pretend Hank wasn't sitting right next to him. Hank, who now knew Connor's deepest secret. Hank, who had just given him a handjob in a sex club. Connor felt sick.

"Well. This is awkward," Hank said, and Connor almost wanted to laugh.  
“So I’m guessing it was you in there who I just -”, Hank didn’t finish the question, but he didn’t need to.   
“Yes,” Connor said.  
"Are you alright?", Hank asked next and there was worry in his voice, worry Connor wasn't certain he still deserved.  
"I - I didn't know it was you, shit, Connor, I'm so sorry -," Hank started stammering, as Connor still didn't answer.

Connor finally turned to look at the man next to him. He genuinely seemed worried, he somehow had managed to hurt Connor, by being nothing but loving towards him. It was ridiculous, really.

"It's not that," Connor admitted.  
He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, as he tried to force the next words out.  
"I liked this," he said the words so silently, he wasn't certain Hank could even hear him. "I'm not - I'm not mad it was you," he added.

Hank's facial expression was impossible to read to him at that moment.  
Connor felt as if he was about to start crying.

"Hey," Hank said, his voice unbelievable gentle.   
His hand on Connor's arms, as if they were still friends, as if Connor wasn't -  
"Hey, Connor. Look at me. What's wrong then?"  
"I'm - how are you not disgusted with me?", Connor asked the question that had been stuck on the tip of his tongue, ever since they had gotten into the car.  
Hank looked taken aback by that.  
"Why on Earth would I be disgusted by you?"  
"Because I - I go into clubs like these and I think I might like men and I'm -"  
He didn't expect Hank to laugh at the words.  
"Sorry. But you must have realized I like men by now too, Con," he said.  
"That's different," Connor protested.  
"How?"

Connor sighed.  
There wasn't a point in not telling Hank anymore.

"Ever since becoming deviant, I've found it hard to fit in anywhere. And while I do consider you a friend and you're perhaps the person that understands me most, I often found myself wishing - that I could fit in somewhere. I felt as if I was doing something wrong somehow, like no one could accept me as I am, because I'm just too different, from other humans and deviants alike. I felt as if - as if I couldn't add another thing to the list of things that make me different."  
Hank next to him sighed.  
"That's a load of bullcrap, you know that, right?"

Hank stared out the window for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.  
"You don't have to be normal or whatever, to find people that care about you. There's nothing wrong with you, exactly as you are."  
Connor had a hard time believing that, and yet, when Hank said the words, they almost seemed true.  
"Thank you, Hank," he said, and for the first time, that evening, smiled at him again.

"For what it's worth, I don't think of you any differently than I did yesterday, Con," he said and Connor's heart suddenly felt lighter.  
Maybe it was a terrible idea to do so, but Connor couldn't help but wonder. If he was honest with himself, he wanted a repeat of this night.  
"...not any differently?", Connor asked, his thirium pump beating fast in his chest.  
Hank next to him snorted.  
"Well, maybe a little differently. Come here, you idiot," Hank grumbled and Connor moved closer, best as he could inside the car.

Hank's lips pressed against his and for a second, Connor forgot why he had ever been so worried about any of this in the first place.  
He separated from Hank with a smile.

"I'm still not sure if I can be comfortable with this," Connor said and it felt like a sad confession to make, right there, after just having kissed the man next to him. But Hank understood, like he always did.   
"You're gonna figure it out eventually. There's nothing wrong with you, Con. I'm always gonna be right here," Hank said and pressed a kiss to his temple. "I promise."  
Connor leaned his head against Hank's shoulder and closed his eyes. He just wanted to relax for a minute.

Connor was certain that even if Hank was right, it would take him still a long time to accept that part of himself. But if it meant he'd get to feel Hank's lips pressed against his own again, Connor sure as hell was gonna try.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I wanted to write a funny/fluffy fic about them accidentally hooking up and it being awkward as hell and uh, this happened instead. I don't even know how. 😂


End file.
